Shadows Inna Di Woods <pipe> Part 2

The land was once a secret hideout, so we were told,
A place where slaves and abolitionists found refuge in the cold,
Where graves and tombs were used as escape routes,
For those seeking freedom and shedding off their chains of doubt.

As kids, we were warned not to venture into the darkness,
Or mention the graves, a taboo that brought us sadness,
Only adults were allowed in the graveyard back then,
On Friday nights, they prayed to the gods, a ritual that never ends.

We would hear Bryan's grandparents and friends,
Praying for continued protection, from the rulers who never bend,
And to this day, the rituals done in the graveyard, remain a mystery,
A sacred practice, shrouded in secrecy, and religious history.

Now, as an adult, I find joy in seeing the graveyard in all its glory,
The tombs marked as escape routes, telling a story,
Of a past that we should never forget or ignore,
A reminder of the struggles that we have fought before.

I open some of the tombs, with a sense of reverence,
A quiet nod to the spirits, of those who once sought independence,
And as I stand amidst the graves, I feel a sense of peace,
Of a past that is still alive, and of hope that never cease.

For the land may have once been a secret hideout,
But now it stands as a symbol of freedom, there's no doubt,
And though the rituals and practices remain a mystery,
Their impact on our lives, and the legacy they leave, is no longer a mystery.

So, let us remember the past, and honour those who fought,
To break the chains of slavery, and the freedom they sought,
And let the graveyard stand as a testament to their bravery,
A reminder of the power of hope, and the strength of humanity.